


Mutual Friends

by romanticalgirl



Category: Hornblower (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-05 19:17:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>To <a href="http://nolivingman.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://nolivingman.livejournal.com/"><b>nolivingman</b></a> and <a href="http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/"></a><b>inlovewithnight</b> who had to put up with my OMGsomanyclothes! issues on AIM.  *smooches you both*</p><p>Originally posted 3-31-06</p>
    </blockquote>





	Mutual Friends

**Author's Note:**

> To [](http://nolivingman.livejournal.com/profile)[**nolivingman**](http://nolivingman.livejournal.com/) and [](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/)**inlovewithnight** who had to put up with my OMGsomanyclothes! issues on AIM. *smooches you both*
> 
> Originally posted 3-31-06

The knock on the door was not unexpected, though it was, these days, more of a surprise than it had been not so long ago. Kitty sighed and rubbed at the gentle lines that had begun to settle deeper into her skin around her eyes and mouth – laugh lines, she assured herself.

“A gentleman caller, Miss Cobham.” The girl curtsied and set the envelope next to Kitty’s hand. She reached over and took it, looking with some measure of surprise at the seal. “A _real_ gentleman.”

Kitty ran her fingers over the dark wax and smiled, wondering what Duke or Earl or Lord had found himself in town for the night at loose ends and even looser morals, hoping that an actress would be willing, for a few pounds, to be synonymous, though far more acceptable, than a whore.

“The Earl of Edrington,” Kitty read softly, memorizing the words as though they were lines of a script. She skimmed the letter then stopped, a word catching her eye, then started again from the beginning, deepening the joyful lines around her lips as she smiled.

_My dearest Miss Cobham,_

_Though I have not yet had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, we share mutual friends who have assured me that having the opportunity to see you perform and not doing so would be great folly on my part._

_I do hope you would be so kind as to accept my invitation to dine and regale each other with tales of Mr. Hornblower and Mr. Kennedy. They send their best wishes and regard along with me, and ask that I deliver them in person._

_Most sincerely yours,_  
Major Lord Edrington  


She folded the letter slowly, setting it on the table in front of her. “Does he still wait?” She asked, surprised at the breathlessness of her voice. “The gentleman?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Tell him that I would be most delighted to dine with him. Please ask that he wait just a moment while I ready myself.”

“Yes, Miss.”

She shed her costume easily, leaving it lay across the chaise. Moving over to the rack of gowns, she moved them aside until she found the deep cornflower blue dress that so accented her eyes. The girl came back in the room, her face a flush of red. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing, Miss. He’s just…he’s very…” She shook her head, her blush deepening as she rushed over and gathered Kitty’s dress from her. “Here, let me, Miss.” She helped Kitty on with the garment, tightening straps and ribbons and stays, adjusting décolletage. “I think Major my Lord will be most impressed, Miss.” She blushed again. “If I may say so.”

“No woman ever refuses a compliment.” Kitty stared at herself in the mirror then pinched her cheeks, bringing a natural flush to the pale skin. She kept her expression from sliding into a frown as she noticed the lines again, wondering if Lord Edrington would see wrinkles that defined age or lines that defined character. “Especially one such as me.” She lifted her chin and forced a smile, her natural good humor turning it honest quickly enough. “Very well then. Shall we meet His Lordship?”

**

Edrington stood as the door opened, his lips curved in the knowing hint of a smile that had served him so well with Miss Cobham’s girl. The sight of her on the stage had been that of an old matron, and nothing like the woman described in avid and glowing detail by Kennedy and Hornblower. But this woman dressed in the same blue as Kennedy’s laughing eyes was more like their description - _beautiful and saucy and brazen_. had said Kennedy, _But always a lady_ , had added Hornblower, his eyes chastising his friend.

“Major, my Lord.” She curtsied, one hand sweeping her skirt out while the other hid her face behind a matching silk fan.

“Miss Cobham.” He reached for the hand in her skirts, tugging it free and lifting it to his lips as he bowed before her. Her skin was dry and soft, like fine powder beneath his fingers. He raised his head, watching her with dark eyes as his thumb swept over the remains of his kiss, rubbing the memory of it against the back of her hand. “I cannot begin to express the depth of my pleasure.”

“I’m sure the pleasure is all mine, my Lord.”

“If that were so, dear lady, then I have indeed served you well.” He turned, tucking the hand he still held through his arm, patting it as it rested on the scarlet of his sleeve. “I must admit that I am not accustomed to this area of town. Perhaps you would be so good as to recommend a place that we could dine? Or would you wish to accompany me for a carriage ride to a club in which I have reservations for two, made in the blatant hope that I could convince you to join me?”

“I feel assured, my Lord, that there are very few who resist your invitations.”

“To agree with you would be boastful, I fear. But to not do so would be ingratiating and untruthful.”

She smiled at his grin, her eyes alight with humor. “Always err on the side of truth, my Lord. Unless lies are more becoming.”

“Or, as per our Mr. Hornblower, necessary?”

“All lies can be made necessary, my Lord.”

“Then let us promise, shall we?” He stopped and grabbed her wrap from the rack beside the door. “Tonight we tell no lies.”

“A rather risqué proposition, my Lord.”

He draped her wrap around her shoulders, his breath fanning on her bared neck. “The first, perhaps, of many.”

**

The carriage moved smoothly over the cobblestone streets, the cool air causing small shivers to race along her spine, warring with those caused by the warm nearness of the man beside her. She had been shocked to find so young a man at her door, though his friendship with Hornblower and Kennedy should have informed her. Still, she had seen and been seen by many a young man, but none that had brought such warmth to her cheeks, to her breast and beyond.

“How do you know of Mr. Hornblower and Mr. Kennedy?” She leaned in toward him, the loud noise of the horses’ hooves requiring closeness to be heard. “You are not a Marine.”

“There was a need for the joint forces of my command and those of the _Indefatigable_. I fought alongside them both in France.”

“And they fare well?”

“They do.” He reached over and drew up the blanket covering her skirts, tugging it higher as the movement of the carriage made it slip. She caught her breath as his hand brushed over the thin fabric, sliding across her lap as he settled back in his seat. “Mr. Hornblower has made Lieutenant and Mr. Kennedy is to go for his examination soon. They still serve together under Captain Pellew. At least at my last encounter with them.”

His eyes moved over her with slow intent, and she felt the blush sting her cheeks. Her age weighed on her for a moment until she found the spark of appreciation that lit his features in the gas lamps that lined the streets. “That is most heartening to hear. The last I had seen of both of them, they were returning to a Spanish prison.”

“A far cry from there now, I assure you.” The carriage slowed, drawing up in front of a large white building. “When we are inside, I shall pay you their proper compliments.”

“In there, my Lord?” She shook her head. “I cannot.”

“Cannot?” He asked the word as if the meaning were foreign to him, a man used to issuing orders and having them obeyed.

“Your title affords you privileges that do not extend to the company you keep, my Lord. No matter how much I wish it so. Besides, while this is a fine dress, it is by no means my best and even that would not be well enough for this place.”

“I would never,” his voice was hard, though there was something gentle in it as he smiled at her, “invite a lady anywhere she was not welcome. And you are,” his finger stroked across her cheek then down to her lips, the familiar touch catching her breath, “for tonight, my Lady.” She swallowed and held his eyes as he leaned in, his breath teasing her lips. “Are you not?”

**

“So you see,” Edrington tilted his wine glass, the dark liquid swirling dangerously close to the lip, “money and privilege can buy you many things. Power. Influence. Respect. Friends.”

“A place at your table for Drury Lane’s fading star?” She took a sip of her drink and gave him a tight smile. “Talk behind hands as opposed to outright stares of disapproval?”

“Ah. In the process of ridiculing the upper echelon of society and their easily purchased loyalties, I’ve managed to insult you.” He nodded and set his drink down, reaching across the table to brush his fingers across the back of her hand. “I apologize. No such insult was meant. I would not pay for the pleasure of your company, Miss Cobham. I only wish it be freely given.”

“It is I who should apologize, my Lord. I should know that no friend of Mr. Hornblower’s would view any lady so, no matter her station.”

“Those with money live in fear.” He lifted his wine glass once more, watching her eyes as they followed the movement of his hand then darted up to his gaze. “Of discovery. Of ruin. Of loss. They are easily purchased for the possible price of someone else’s humiliation. They’re like vultures seeking out such a downfall. I shall fully enjoy watching them hover around us looking to pick meat off our bones, only to be left with nothing to dine on.”

“You’re so sure I’m respectable, my Lord?”

“I am assured of nothing, Miss Cobham, save your own survival instincts – detailed so clearly to me by our mutual friends – and the fact that any display that would ruin this fine dinner would likely ruin as well what promises to be an enjoyable evening.”

“The evening, my Lord, is nearly done.”

“Then, Miss Cobham,” he reached out again and took her hand, leaning in to press it to his lips, turning it and repeating the soft gesture against her wrist, the barest hint of his tongue brushing her flesh, “shall we look forward instead to a most enjoyable night?”

**

Kitty leaned carefully against Edrington’s shoulder as he settled into the carriage beside her. With one corner of his mouth curled in a smile, he eased his arm around her shoulders under the guise of adjusting her wrap. “Chilled, my Lady?”

“Not as such, my Lord, and certainly no longer.” She tilted her head to offer him a coquettish smile, giving in to an honest one as he chuckled softly. “Thank you for dinner.”

“Thank you for the company, which made good food that much better.”

“Good food, my Lord? I have never feasted as such. And the wine – my head spins.”

“Then the wine has done its duty. I wish you dizzy and sated in all your appetites, my Lady.”

She relented to the soft pressure of his arm, settling closer to him. The worn smooth wool of his Regimental jacket was warm and soft against her cheek. “A true lady admits no appetites, my Lord.”

“And what of a great lady of the theatre?” His breath stirred her hair, his softly whispered words brushing against her skin as he bent his head, his mouth close to her ear. “What appetites does such a lady possess?”

“All of them, my Lord. And in great demand.”

He laughed softly, the sound sending shivers of sensation along her spine. “In that case, I must admit that I am gratified to be in the company of a great lady of the theatre rather than that of a true Lady.” He reached down for her hand and ran his thumb across the back of it. “I have something more for you from Mr. Hornblower and Mr. Kennedy.”

“Do you, my Lord? They have overdone their generosity in merely offering you a letter of introduction.” She turned her hand in his, offering him her palm. His thumb pressed against the softer skin, trailing from wrist to fingertip. “I shall have to send them both my thanks.”

“Let us not thank them yet, Kitty…may I call you Kitty?”

“I do not think that would be either wise or proper.” She turned her head, meeting his eyes, swimming in the heat of his gaze. “Do you, my Lord?”

“Proper? No.” He bent his head, the promise of a kiss and more on his lips. “Wise? Undoubtedly not.” She licked her lips and tilted her chin up, nothing but a breath between them. “But I ask all the same.”

“My Lord?”

He closed his eyes and huffed out a short breath, inhaling and composing himself as he turned his attention back to the carriage driver. “Yes?”

“We’re nearing, my Lord.”

“Very well.” He nodded and turned back to Kitty, his eyes still dark. “I’m going to invite you inside, my Lady. And I will ask you to join me in a drink of a very ghastly bottle of Spanish wine that both Mr. Hornblower and Mr. Kennedy said you would enjoy. And then I will make you an offer.”

“An offer, my Lord?” Heat swirled through her, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. His eyes watched her relentlessly.

“I will offer to escort you back to this very carriage with the remainder of the bottle and the memories of what I hope has been a fine evening.”

“Or?”

“You assume there’s an or?”

“My Lord, if that were simply what you were going to do, it would not be an offer. It would be fact.” She touched her finger against his lower lip, marveling at the fullness, wondering at the taste of him. “Or?”

“Or I will send the carriage away before offering you whatever you would like to…appease you appetites.” He licked his lips and brushed his tongue against her fingertip. “Does that meet with your approval, my Lady?”

“I don’t know, my Lord.” She pulled her hand away and gave him a smile that held her answer. “We shall have to wait and see.”

**

Edrington opened the bottle of wine and sniffed the cork, making a face that brought a delighted laugh from Kitty’s lips. He offered her an answering smile in return and held the cork out toward her. She waved it off with another laugh, shaking her head. “I trust your judgment, my Lord.”

“And yet you still wish to drink this?” He gave her a telling look to go along with his smile as he poured a measure in each of their glasses. He set the bottle aside and then carried her glass to her, handing it over before settling across from her. “To your health, my Lady.”

“And to yours, my Lord.”

He bowed his head in acknowledgement. “And to the continued safety and well-being of our Naval friends, hm? Though,” he took a sip of wine and pressed his lips together in sharp distaste, “perhaps it would be best if we wished them no further chance to purchase beverages in your honor. I fear in doing so, they may sully it.”

“This particular vintage, my Lord, was the Don’s favorite. Mr. Hornblower and I shared many a glass together.”

“Did you?” His eyebrow rose and he offered her another smile, though tighter than the last.

Kitty gave him a long look over the rim of her glass and smiled, her eyes alight. “And do you wish to ask, my Lord, what else Mr. Hornblower and I shared?”

Edrington nearly choked, pulling the glass of wine away and setting it on the table between them before raising his hand to his lips. “Pardon?”

She took another sip, her eyebrow raised knowingly. “I would suspect, my Lord, that you heard me quite clearly.” She set her wine glass down and leaned forward, the sweep of her décolletage catching his eye for an instant before he met her sharp gaze again. “Though I will ask the question again, should you request.”

“No. No.” He cleared his throat and templed his hands, watching her over the point of his fingers. “I would expect, my Lady, that you are a woman wise in the ways of the world. No blushing virgin could hold herself in such regard on the stage as you did tonight.” His lips curved into a smile. “However, I do not see how either of us would be well-served to dwell upon past lovers – or otherwise – when the future looms before us.”

“Well then, my Lord.” Kitty lifted her glass and finished the rest of the liquid in one long swallow, her eyes closed, her throat exposed. “With that in mind, I believe you said something of an offer?”

He got to his feet and helped her to hers, his hand remaining in her grip for a long moment before he lifted it to his lips and kissed it briefly before stepping back. “I did.” He moved to the bottle of wine and corked it again, turning it in his hands before offering it to her. “”With Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Hornblower’s good wishes, Miss Cobham.”

She curtsied then took the dark green glass from his grip. “Thank you, my Lord.”

Her eyes stayed on him as he caught her wrist, taking the bottle with his free hand as he drew her closer. “You have, Miss Cobham, two choices.” Her breath was warm on his skin as she tilted her face up to him, her lips parted on a smile. “Go. Or stay.” He set the bottle behind him, not caring as it tipped and crashed against the silver tray. His hand free, he brought it up to trail his fingers down the length of her neck, tickling against the curling tendrils of hair that framed her face. “Go?” He closed his eyes and let his lips hover over hers, their breath mingling. “Or stay?”

“I have,” she swallowed, her mouth moving against his with every word, “appetites that have not yet been satisfied, my Lord.”

“In that regard, my dearest Kitty,” his hand curved around the nape of her neck, holding her as his lips brushed hers lightly, “you are not alone.”

“Dismiss the carriage, my Lord.”

“No.” He tasted her lips with his tongue. “Let them sit.” His tongue pressed past her lips, delving into the sweet, tart heat of her mouth, tainted with the Spanish wine. “I have other priorities at the present time.”

**

Kitty shivered in his kiss, feeling the hard thrust of his tongue as it invaded her mouth, slow and steady and intent, brushing the slick surfaces of her tongue and teeth as his hand kneaded gently at the nape of her neck, his other sliding along her arm until he reached her side, skimming over her waist.

She moaned softly, the sound surprising her almost as much as the low answer came from between his parted lips. He pulled back and stared down at her, his green eyes smoky and dark. “At this juncture,” the corner of his mouth jerked upward in a sly smile, “I think it best that I suggest we retire from the common room to some place a bit more private.”

“Do you, my Lord?”

“Lest I do worse than our friends and truly sully your good name.”

“My name, my Lord,” she lifted her hand, running her finger along the curve of his lower lip, “while good, is not the best thing about me.”

“And dare I ask, Miss Cobham, what would hold that claim?”

She slipped from his hands and walked toward the door, watching him over her shoulder. “You could ask, my Lord, but, as an actress, I find it best that I show you. Don’t you?”

“In that case, Miss Cobham,” he edged around her and caught her hand, leading her down a hallway lit with the soft glow of candles, “let me show you the way.”

She followed him down the corridor, her breath tight in her chest, her eyes catching the soft flickers of light as they glinted off of the silver accoutrements of his uniform. He looked back at her and offered her a smile, the faint light sparking against the desire in his eyes. “I begin to think, my Lord, that you may have had such an occasion planned all along.”

“I assure you, my dearest Kitty,” he stopped at the end of the hall, one hand still in hers, the other on the knob of the door, “I would assume no such situation. I find it my deepest honor and privilege that you deem to share your company with me.” He twisted the handle and pressed the door open, stepping aside to allow her to proceed him into the room. As she passed, he moved behind her, close and warm. “That you would allow me to…slake your appetites.”

She shivered at his words, moving deeper into the room as he closed the door behind them. He caught her hand again and turned her to face him, his eyes searching hers in the pale light of the lanterns lights beside the bed. “I am no blushing virgin, my Lord,” Kitty spoke slowly, her words as carefully chosen as if she were reading from a script, “and it does me no service to say this, but I admit I am a bit…nervous.”

The back of his hand caressed her cheek before he turned it, grazing the arch of her eyebrow then the red flush of her cheek. “You have nothing to fear.”

“It is not fear, my Lord.” She turned her face, letting her lips graze his palm. “Much like stage fright, I find it to be the bittersweet thrill of anticipation.”

He closed his eyes as her lips brushed his hand, her mouth moving over the surprisingly soft flesh, her eyes watching the subtle shift of his expression as he relaxed, his eyes opening and finding hers. “In that regard, you are quite correct then.” He slid his fingers down to cup her chin and lifted it, holding her mouth up to the promise of his kiss. “As there is much to anticipate.”

His thumb grazed over her lip, catching on the lower one and easing it away from the other, opening her mouth as he bent his head. His breath was warm and sweet as it met hers, her mouth giving way to the slow insinuation of his tongue. She lay her hand flat on his chest, her thumb brushing over the flat buttons as he tasted her, licking and pressing at the surfaces of her mouth, his tongue urging hers to action.

She wound her free hand up behind his neck, holding the nape, her thumb rubbing the tight muscles, massaging them beneath the brush of his queue as she stole control of the kiss, her mouth closing around his tongue, sucking firmly at the willing flesh. A low sound rumbled in his throat and he drew back, groaning as she transferred the gentle suction to his lip, pulling away reluctantly.

Her hands slid over his chest, smoothing the sharp cut of his uniform until she caught the small metal clasp that held the center of the jacket together. She slipped her fingers against it, guiding it free so that his jacket fell away from his chest. Her hands moved beneath the parted lapels to his waistcoat, edging over the creamy white to his shoulders. He held her gaze with his own burning one as she smiled, moving around him, her fingers dragging against his body until she reached his back.

She spanned the broad, muscular surface, running her hands from his waist to his shoulders. Edrington tensed slightly then relaxed as she curled her hands over the neck of the jacket, the back of her fingers brushing his neck as she eased it off of him. He turned his head to watch her settle it over the arm of a nearby chair, his eyes moving over her in frank appraisal.

Kitty met his gaze as it reached her eyes with a smile and a raised eyebrow, her lips parting on a satisfied grin as he turn and came toward her. He closed the short distance in two strides, his mouth claiming hers again in a heated kiss. She parted her lips immediately and he responded, tongues and lips and teeth tasting and sliding and sucking, nipping at warm flesh as his hands caught her hips, holding her as his mouth devoured every willing morsel she offered.

Her hands moved steadily, freeing the buttons of his waistcoat with trembling fingers as she finally broke the series of kisses, her breath coming shakily as he licked her lips and then his own, his chest rising and falling beneath her hands. He released his grip on her waist just long enough to reach the clasp of his cummerbund, unfastening it and letting it fall as she finished with his waistcoat.

He teased her mouth with a kiss then pulled away, shrugging the waistcoat off his shoulders and tossing it across his jacket, the splash of white bright against the red. Kitty watched him with hungry eyes as he reached up, unknotting the black stock as his neck, unwinding it slowly. Not to be outdone, she returned his mischievous, knowing smile with one of her own, her hands reaching for the first ribbon at her bosom and tugging the loose ends until the bow fell away.

Tossing away the black silk with no regard to where it fell, Edrington smiled and shook his head, stepping back toward her. His larger hands brushed hers away. “My duty,” he assured her with another light kiss, barely more than a promise. He hooked one finger in the knot and tugged it loose before letting his fingers trail over the fabric, tracing the pattern indelicately close to the thrusts of her breasts. She caught her breath, holding it until he returned his fingers to the next bow, though his next words stole it from her. “And my pleasure.”

She watched his hands as he worked the ribbons loose, her dress falling open, the sleeves sliding loosely down her arms. One corner of his mouth curled in a smile that edged toward self-satisfaction as he splayed his hands over her waist then let them trail down, his smile and eyes focused on her as he sank to his knees.

“My…” her breath caught again and she fought to swallow as he knelt before her. “My Lord?”

His hands gathered the fabric of her dress, fingers stroking it as he straightened, dragging the material up with him. Her protests died as he stood before her, her skirts in his hands and his eyes on hers. “All you need say is stop.”

“If I were to say such a thing, my Lord, you would.”

It was not a question, though he answered it with his sly smile, disappearing from her view as he guided her dress up between them. She laughed softly as he tugged at the material, her hands helping remove it as the sheer volume of fabric overwhelmed them both. His deep laughter resonated in the room and within her as she finally slipped free, her carefully woven curls falling in disarray around her face.

“From the ridiculous,” he shook out her dress and lay it over his jacket and waistcoat before turning to look at her, his eyes feasting on the creamy skin above her corset before sliding down to the bell curve of her hips and petticoats then back up again to her face, surely flushed. “To the sublime.”

Kitty shivered under his heated gaze, feeling her body respond to his intense scrutiny as he moved closer. He stopped in front of her, lifting a hand and letting just the tip of his fingers brush over the top crest of her corset, skating along the hard edge of the wire, not touching her. She bit her lower lip then licked it, watching his finger move slowly, tracing the sculpted fabric.

Her breath faltered, falling from her lips with a stutter. He lifted his eyes from the movement of his fingers to catch her eyes. “Beautiful,” he whispered softly, his attention sweeping back down to where his fingers now slipped over the edge, trailing down to her waist. She could feel the movement through the cloth, the heated path like a brand on her skin.

Reaching out, Kitty brushed her fingers over Edrington’s cheek, her thumb caressing his lips. “Should His Majesty’s forces ever need to fight a battle with flattery, my Lord, I do hope you are at the front of our line of defense.”

“Not flattery, Kitty,” he assured her as he slid his hands around her waist and brushed her thumb with a kiss. “We promised no lies, did we not?”

“Flattery is not a lie, Sir,” she assured him, replacing her thumb with the swift brush of her lips. “Merely an…extension of the truth.”

“We have played with words all night,” he reminded her as his fingers found the fastening of her petticoats, untying the satin ribbon easily and edging the pulled fabric away from her hips so that it could glide silently to the floor in a puff of warm air. “I grow weary of the game.”

“You do not like the chase, my Lord?”

“The chase,” he assured her with a slow kiss, his hands curving over the flesh of her bottom, soft cotton and even softer skin giving way as he pulled her against him, “makes the heart beat and the pulse race. The prize at the end of it…” He kissed her again, one hand moving up to the small of her back while the other remained, his hands molding her to his body as he feasted on her mouth.

Her hands caught at his shirt, tugging it free from his breeches and guiding it up. He released her reluctantly, fingers unbuttoning the collar as she urged it off of him, neither of them giving up the kiss until the last, breaking apart with a mutual gasp as he reached up to help her slip it over his head.

“Oh…my.” Her hands moved of their own volition, sliding over hard muscle and taut flesh. She traced a silver line of a scar with a shaking finger then traced the sharp lines of his abdomen. She looked up, shivering at the molten heat darkening his gaze, the flare of desire as he met her eyes. She held his eyes as she lowered her head, her tongue snaking out to flicker across the hard nub of his nipple.

He growled low, the sound rumbling against her tongue as he caught her chin, lifting her mouth up to his. His tongue pushed past her lips, plundering and conquering every surface as he began walking, guiding her out of the fallen mass of petticoats to the golden expanse of cloth covering the four-poster bed.

Stopping just as she reached the bed, he pulled away and set his hands on her shoulders, stepping back as he turned her. She glanced over her shoulder, her hair sweeping her back until he pushed it away, his lips planting a soft, warm kiss to the top of her spine. She shivered in the heat of it, tilting her head as his mouth moved over her neck, his fingers deftly loosening the tight laces that held her corset. He slid his finger between the loosened weave and tugged at it gently, the fabric falling away from her skin.

Kitty made a soft sound and caught the corset with her arm, holding it against her chest. Another glance back at him revealed the smirking grin that she had anticipated and she turned slowly, waiting until she faced him fully to release the corset and let it fall away as the loosened ties would now allow. She matched his smile with her own, lifting her arms up above her head, inviting him to slip her free of the confining fabric.

Shaking his head slowly, Edrington allowed a smile to curve his lips as he bent his head, his fingers tugging the corset away from her skin. She shivered slightly, the motion more pronounced as his breath feathered over her bare flesh, his warm tongue curving around her nipple, drawing it into his mouth, suckling it gently. Kitty moaned, the low breathy sound parting her lips as she caught her fingers in his hair, mussing the carefully coiffed strands with quick grasps to match the sharp intake of breath as his teeth grazed the hard nub between his lips.

He chuckled softly, the sound pulsing against her skin as he released her, moving slowly to the other breast, repeating the gesture with infinite slowness until her hand moved down his head to grasp his queue, tugging the mass of hair until he gave in and took the tip into his mouth. His hand came up, cupping the breast he’d so recently abandoned, his thumb teasing the slick, wet flesh until she pulled even harder at his hair, bringing his head back and his eyes up to hers.

“Please, my Lord.” She spoke softly, her words punctuated by the slow rise of her arms as she held them over her head again. Edrington straightened and obliged, sure fingers guiding the stiff fabric of her corset over her head and baring the milky-pale skin to his heated gaze.

His smile spoke for him as he touched her face, teasing the fallen curls back away from her cheek. He let the fingers trail down along her neck to her shoulders and down to her breasts, curving over the swell of flesh as she trembled, her lips parted with every breathy gasp. “Lie back,” he whispered against a soft kiss, stolen from her open mouth. “Let me love you.”

A tremor ran through her and she swallowed, her dark eyes meeting his. He shook his head to silence the words poised on her lips and guided her down to the bed, laying her back on the golden spread and trailing his fingers along her body as he straightened. She shifted, her hands moving instinctively at his intense gaze, but his disarming smile and silent shake of his head stilled her. “My Lord…?”

“Like a treasure,” he assured her as he slipped off her shoes before kneeling between her slightly parted legs, his fingers teasing beneath the waistband of her pantaloons and tugging downward, her hips rising at his insistence. “Buried beneath an ocean of fabric.” He stepped back off the edge of the mattress, pulling the soft garment with him, leaving her before him in nothing save her stockings. His eyes moved over her like a caress, stroking her bared skin with heat and admiration as he carefully removed his boots, letting them fall beside the bed before he knelt between her legs again. “But so worth the finding.”

His hands slid along the bedspread beneath her legs until he reached her knees then turned them, letting his palms slide against the silk of her stockings. She rose up on her elbows, watching him as he turned his head, planting a soft kiss on her left ankle, working his way up her leg with faint kisses and the gentle nuzzle of his nose and mouth.

He reached the top of her stocking and paused, offering her a promising smile. She caught her breath though it escaped her in a low, frustrated moan as he turned to her other leg, beginning again at her ankle and working his slow, steady way up to her thigh.

Kitty lay back on the bed, her body shaking with anticipation and tension as he reached the top of her right stocking. Every muscle was stretched tight as a wire, corded and close to breaking. Her hands reached for him, and fell short of their mark as his tongue trailed along the top hem of her stocking, stroked the flat plane of her stomach, the movement catching his eye and bringing him up from the slow exploration of the tender flesh.

He fit his hands beneath her legs again and slid them up until they rested against the curve of her bottom, his smile purely wicked before the stream of warm-cool breath hit her skin, sending a shock of reaction through her.

“Oh.” She gasped, the sound strangled as he blew another soft puff of air, following it with the sudden pressure of the tip of his tongue. “O…oh, my Lord.”

His tongue traced the sensitive nub of flesh, teasing down beneath it to her opening before moving upward once again. His hands moved from beneath her, sliding along her inner thighs, thumbs pulling back the flushed wet flesh that shrouded her sex and his tongue.

She whimpered as he turned his head slightly, sucking on that same flesh. Kitty moaned, her hips arching off the bed in response. His breathy chuckle again filtered against her skin in combination with his tongue and lips and teeth as he tasted her. His tongue teased her, sliding around the throbbing pulse of her arousal without touching it until her thighs closed around him, her hands tugging at the disheveled blond hair now within her grasp. Her hips rocked forward, her breathless pants filling the heavy air of the room.

He stopped then ran his tongue over her, moving hungrily. His low growls of pleasure sent responding shivers through her and she cried out, her mouth open wide as the building crest crashed over her, drowning her in sensation.

Edrington pulled away as she eased her grip on his hair, sliding up to place a warm, wet kiss on her stomach. She shivered, heat still coursing through her, and placed her hand against his cheek, brushing his flushed skin. Her thumb ran across his lips and his tongue darted out, stealing yet another taste of her. “My Lord.”

He shook his head, bending it again to place another kiss on her stomach, his tongue circling her navel. She laughed softly, her hands stroking his hair though her brow furrowed as he shifted, resting his elbow on the bed beside her hip, his head pillowed on his hand.

“My Lord?”

He ran his free hand along her thigh, short nails scraping the flesh, still damp from arousal and perspiration. Kitty’s body jerked in response, another rush of heat sliding through her. Edrington bent his head and kissed her stomach again, his eyes on her and watching as his fingers moved higher, trailing over the sensitive skin once more before parting it, his fingers sliding easily along the moist flesh to the heat of her.

The moan came from deep inside her, the insistent push of his fingers filling her, curving and molding to the sweep of the wet flesh, stroking inside her with slow, steady thrusts. She closed her eyes, her head dropping back on the bed. She felt him shift, his fingers not slowing their stroke as his other hand dropped down beside her to catch the curls that fanned out around her face, his mouth once more finding her breast.

“My…Lord,” she begged softly, her voice barely above a whisper, breaking out between the ragged breaths she managed to draw. He ignored her requests, her quiet pleas, contenting himself with the soft curve of her breast and the heavy wet surrounding his fingers.

The second wave crashed more quickly and harder than the first, her muscles clenching around his fingers as she came. Her body jerked in response as he brought his thumb to bear against the still sensitive repository of nerves, her whole body tightening around him.

**

She lay there, sanguine and sated, her eyes half-closed as he lifted his head, carefully easing his fingers free of her. She shuddered slightly, the spill of her arousal shining against her skin. He pulled away slowly, smiling to allay her protests, planting a soft kiss just below her navel before slipping off the bed.

His body was uncomfortably stiff, need pulsing through his veins. His sex-slicked fingers slipped on the buttons of his breeches, drawing a soft curse from between his lips. He glanced up as she shifted, her hair falling in her face as she sat up, her hand brushing against his arousal, obvious even through the placket.

“Let me, my Lord.”

Her hands trembled as much as his, though she eased the buttons free more quickly than he had managed. His chest heaved as her fingers grazed over the hot, hard flesh as she guided his breeches down, his small clothes doing little to mask his need. He let the clothes crumple to the floor, stepping out of them and kneeling on the bed in one fluid motion.

He guided her back onto the mattress, easing her beneath him with gentle yet demanding hands. Her legs were splayed to welcome him, heat emanating from her satisfied flesh as he grasped his length and ran the head of it against the wet that coated her skin before sheathing himself inside her in one smooth, easy stroke.

Tightness and heat surrounded him as he stilled his motion, resting buried inside her. His hands rested on the mattress on either side of Kitty’s head, her hair tangled in his fingers as he stared down at her. Her hands ran up his arms to his chest, nails scraping his skin. Her blue eyes held his and she smiled, her face flushed and soft in desire and satisfaction, relaxed despite the tension in her body, coiled around his shaft. He pulled back until just the tip penetrated her then thrust forward, his hips colliding with hers.

Her answering moan was different than the soft sounds that had drifted down to his ears as he’d tasted her, deeper and hungrier. The light of her eyes darkened as his hips moved against hers, his own eyes fighting to drift closed as he allowed sensation to consume him. She touched him, her fingers exploring his chest and stomach, back and hips, curving over the clenched muscles of his bottom. She urged him on with near silent gasps and the hard press of her hips to his, meeting his every thrust.

“Kitty,” he whispered, finding her lips again, taking them in a searing kiss, tangling her tongue with his own. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs mimicking the gesture as they closed around his calves, her body taut and tight beneath him as he offered one last, hard stroke before spilling himself inside her.

They lay there in silence save for the hard sounds of their breath, mingled together as their lips parted, without the strength to pull away. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers. After a few moments, he forced himself up, braced above her and smiling down at her well-satisfied countenance.

“I shall,” he spoke softly, his voice rough and throaty. He cleared it quietly and began again. “I shall have to send a _most_ grateful letter to Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Hornblower.”

She laughed, the sound deep and thick as her eyes drifted close. “And a kind compliment to me, my Lord.”

He eased off of her, moving to her side. She turned, curling against him and he lay his hand on her back, stroking the smooth line. “They say that every lady is owed a compliment, you know. And yet so few deserve them.”

“And how do you find me, my Lord? Owing? Or deserving?”

“Most deserving,” he assured her. His fingers traced her hairline, pushing back the errant curls that clung to her damp skin before tracing the line of her eyebrow. “In so many ways. Having seen you on stage, I can, without reservation, expound on your talent as an actress.”

“Resigned to playing old maids and mothers these days, my Lord.”

“Only for the lack of imagination on the part of your directors, rest assured.” His hand continued its slow exploration of her face, his thumb brushing at the lines that crinkled in the shadow of her eyes. “Beautiful.”

She closed her eyes as he leaned in and kissed the area his thumb had caressed. “Aging, my Lord.”

“As are we all.” He kissed the area again. “I have had lovers in my time, my dear Kitty, as I imagine have you. Name to me one who did not have lines of laughter in his face that made good sport in bed.”

A surprised laugh slipped past her lips and she shook her head, opening her eyes enough to meet his, her hand lifting to brush the same area, the fine lines that bracketed his eyes. “I imagine the women you’ve loved, my Lord, wear the tracks of the tears shed when you require they leave your bed.”

“Much like an actress,” he stroked her cheek, “I find that leaving them wanting more is always a good strategy.”

“What does that say of me, my Lord? Given as you’ve well-sated all my appetites.”

He brushed her lips with his fingers then with his mouth, pulling back to allow her a glimpse of his smile. “You mean to say, Kitty, that you want nothing more from me? Come the dawn, you will slip out of my bed and into the waiting carriage, rouse the sleeping driving and horse and be gone?” He reached behind him and gathered the bedspread in his hand, pulling it easily over both of them.

“Did I say such a thing, my Lord?”

“Or shall I wake you with scent of fine food and the warm press of my body. Shall I fill your appetites again before I tuck you into fine bone and silk, tie up your ribbons and breathe hot kisses against your lips one last time before you go?”

“An invitation I can hardly refuse, my Lord.”

“I know,” he smiled, eyes closing sleepily, hands pulling her closer. “I rarely make an invitation that anyone can.” She laughed, her own voice drowsy and slow. He kissed her once more, tucking her inside his embrace. “And, Kitty?”

“Mmm, yes, my Lord?”

“You were wrong.” He opened his eyes, intent in the reflection her gaze offered him. “I never bring them home to my bed.”  



End file.
